


Specter in the doorway

by Miss_Katherine (for_steggy)



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Movie: Casino Royale (2006), Resolution, What-If, set before Skyfall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_steggy/pseuds/Miss_Katherine
Summary: It was after she had gone strawberry blonde, after six years of a new identity, after they had found her anyway, that he then showed up and, as it were, rescued her.But it was only after he rescued her and then left her still half dead in a hospital room that she decided she didn't care anymore. Damn M.  Damn all of it.  Damn her, even.
Relationships: James Bond & Vesper Lynd, James Bond/Vesper Lynd
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	Specter in the doorway

**Author's Note:**

> Read tags. Inspired by this magnificent fanfic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5190842/1/Whether-You-Fall  
> which unfortunately isn't on Archive. Go! Go now! Go read it!

It was after she had gone strawberry blonde, after six years of a new identity, after they had found her anyway, that he then showed up and, as it were, rescued her.

But it was only after he rescued her and then left her still half dead in a hospital room that she decided she didn't care anymore. Damn M. Damn all of it. Damn her, even.

* * *

He opened at the knock with no detectable flash of surprise, took note of the wine bottle and small bouquet of white roses dangling from her hand.

“Tell me, Mr. Bond,” she said with a disarming tilt of her chin, “how does one charm the consummate charmer?” She knew she must make a stark contrast to the skeleton he last saw in the observation room, her bruises faded and hair back to it’s dark color once more.

He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. “Well, Miss…Cleary, was it?” His blue eyes seemed colder than they ever had been, nowhere near the warmth they radiated in Venice, or even Montenegro.

“Lynd.”

His shirt was white, crisp, clinical. The lines on his face were made of marble, unmoving. This was a different James Bond than she had left. A small voice inside told her that she had done that.

“And I’ll answer my own question. You can’t.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Truth,” she stated, dropping her wry smile, “is the only way. Un-charming, un-calculated.”

He stared at her.

“May I come in?” she asked, and after a moment he moved almost imperceptibly to the side.

She entered slowly, not looking behind to see if he followed. She set her (all things considered, quite pathetic) offerings on the nearest counter and leaned back against it, wrapping her arms lightly around her middle. She waited.

Somehow the dimness, the emptiness of his apartment soothed her—encased in shadows again.

But it was only a moment, and then finally he was standing across from her, silent. He seemed determined not to talk.

She swallowed. “No more games. The truth is this: I gave my heart to someone, and it put their life in danger. And then when you came into the picture—you terribly good hearted man (yes, beneath all that swagger), I gave it to you, knowing very well that I didn't have a right to do that. I knew there would be a price to pay. And I thought,” she paused carefully, “that at least I could spare you my mistakes.”

Her eyes filled. “See,” she said. “No charm.”

Silence hung between them like a thick black smoke. After a long while he spoke very casually. “I wouldn't say that.”

Her head shot up. She studied him. There was no lethal glint in his eye, no bright coals of desire simmering beneath. _No charm._

He advanced, considering her. “I should be very angry,” he said, “I have been.”

Vesper nodded.

“But not at _you_. Not anymore.”

A curious hope coursed through her, and for the first time in six years she could feel life flowing through her veins.

“I find in myself a weariness to resist the stirrings of my nonexistent soul," he continued softly. "You seem somehow tied to it.” A pause. " _Vesper._ ”

A violent shiver racked her bones.

Yes, here they were, stripped of all their armor. Possibly the first honest interaction everto take place between these two exhausted creatures.

She leaned into the hand cradling her cheek. “Can you ever forgive me?” she whispered, grasping at his arm desperately, her eyes impossibly large.

“I don’t know if I’ve got a choice.” 

Her laughter mixed somewhere with a sob, “Good. Because I know I don’t.”

He kissed her gently then.

Later he told her about Yusef. He was glad that the news was taken as a relief.

And that was that.

* * *

Well, no. Actually that wasn't that, because a week later Vesper noticed, seeming at the same moment as James did, that they were being watched from the other side of the cafe they were taking lunch in.

“Lets get married,” he said suddenly, totally at odds with the discovery.

“For what reason?”

“No reason, I just feel like it.”

She laughed. “Just because you _feel like it?_ And this has nothing to do with you thinking that it might make M choke on her own bile?”

He smiled, looking at her steadily. “No,” was his soft response. She looked back at him, her own playful smile fading away.

“Alright.”

So they left their little table, walked into the nearest courthouse and then walked out.

After that no more men watched them, although when Bond tendered his second (and final) resignation, M did not offer up any congratulations.

So there. Now that _was_ that _._

**Author's Note:**

> The postponement of No Time To Die is getting me fired up, because now I have to wait longer for the ending which I know I won't get :(
> 
> Also, somebody out there let me know if you're still not over Vesper (cuz I'm not).


End file.
